GW Robichaux

"C'mon already," GW muttered under his breath. The line to the concession stand was moving at a snail's pace and the second film was due to start in less than ten minutes. He'd gotten to the drive in late after a performance with the band, and had to have popcorn if he was going to sit on the hood of his truck and watch a horror flick.

Bethany had left her car to replenish her drink, beginning to think she should head back to Vegas soon so she could have something alcoholic to drink. That and she had something she wanted to attend to, and hopefully if all went well she would have a very good finish to Halloween.

She stepped into line behind a dark haired man, seemingly impatient for the line to move and she tipped her head to one side, eying the length of the line. God, she hated waiting, she really did.

GW stretched, impatient for the line to move. When the movie started up he didn't want to miss any of it because he'd been stuck in the concession line. Frankenstein might be a little dated, but it was still a classic that he never tired of watching on Halloween night.

As he stretched a slender blonde came into his field of vision, a real looker who would have been completely without blemish if it weren't for a scar on her face. GW had scars of his own, just not so visible.

"Evenin'," he greeted the blonde, nodding his head in the direction of the line. "Think th' popcorn is worth th' wait?"

( idle chatter )

"Hey batter batter batter," GW muttered to himself. He knew it was a useless exercise as the baseball player was a thousand miles away and couldn't hear him, but he said it anyway. The Astros had been his favorite team growing up, mainly due to the fact that Houston was the closest city with a major league team, and he'd kept a fondness for the ballclub into adulthood.

The Cajun took a sip of his beer and watched the television from his seat at the bar of his neighborhood watering hole. His team was up 5-3 in the bottom of the 8th Inning, but the Diamondbacks had two men on base and no outs.

"They better get movin', you bet." he mused before taking a bite of his cheese fries.

Sarita hadn't intended to go into the little bar near her apartment complex, but she'd returned from a walk to the grocery store to find herself locked out, so she trudged inside with her two bags to wait for her roommate to pull into the parking lot. At least she didn't have milk or something else that needed refrigerating with her.

The place wasn't very crowded, and she decided to get one beer, something inexpensive just to cool off, while she loitered around waiting on Katrina's big butt to come home. Only a couple of days until payday, thank God. The tips had been a little better this week, mostly married couples coming in with their kids. No need to indulge the creeps who wanted to put their hands up her skirt.

It was almost time for her to write a letter home. A letter that would doubtless come back unopened, but she kept hoping that her mother would soften and start talking to her again. As long as she only tried every few months or so, it didn't hurt too much when the envelopes came back untouched. But maybe one day she'd actually get an answer.

That, of course, would probably happen just as easily as her winning a Grammy award for songwriting.

( Merde! A home run! )
( A Songwriter huh? )

The NPC of Sarita was written by Stargazer

Marie Chambers, scourge of the courtroom... Litigator of evil... Viper of Wolfram and Hart...

And totally useless when it came to cars.

With head under bonnet and a clear look of distaste at the prospect of getting oil on her business suit, the redhead was not looking forward to doing the necessary. Whatever 'the necessary' might turn out to be, at any rate. There was a lot of smoke, whatever the case. Or was that steam?

About as much use over an engine as Sonya Ramius at an elocution contest, Marie squinted, pulling out a small mobile telephone in the hope of getting ahold of someone who knew what they were doing.

"Great," the lawyer remarked, finding next to no signal registering on the screen. "Just great..."

GW couldn't help but notice the woman in a business suit with her head stuck under the hood of her overheating car, or at least it looked like it was overheating to him judging from the color of the steam as he drew closer.

It was late and there weren't a lot of cars on the road, and GW would never forgive himself if he didn't stop and something happened to the woman. If Vegas didn't seem to be such a supernatural weirdness magnet maybe he would have simply left it alone as he saw she had a cell phone, but it was and so he pulled his truck over to the side of the road about thirty feet ahead of her.

He was on his way home from a gig, and was dressed in black jeans and an olive drab t-shirt that were a bit dirtier than they'd been the start of the day from packing gear away and the heat of the stage lights. To add insult to injury he'd had beer spilled on him so he probably wasn't smelling the best right now.

GW hoped she didn't freak and call the police.

( lending a helping hand )

"You should be good t' go now," he told her, screwing the radiator cap back on and closing the hood. "Best get it checked in the next day or so though. You take care o' yourself, Miss Chambers, hear?"

With that he nodded politely and headed back to his truck. He might just head over to Meredith's after all, if she was home.

But first, a shower would be in order or he'd show up at her door smelling of beer and antifreeze.

GW Robichaux was a stubborn man, and not one to sit around moping.

With the passage of time and no sign of Meredith, GW concluded that at a minimum she was still upset with him and that worst case scenario she'd broken up with him without bothering to tell him.

He wasn't about to apologize for his words, he'd meant them and still stood by them. That summer spent working for Tante Marie had taught him a great deal about the unintended consequences that could happen to people who messed with magic they didn't understand. The last thing he wanted to see was something happen to Meredith, Elian or Lorne because they went off half cocked in trying to fix the ex-bartender's memory.

So instead of sitting and brooding over his potentially ex-girlfriend, the Cajun had thrown himself into his work. He'd written and rewritten enough music to fill two albums and worked feverishly to promote his band all over the west.

It was late in the evening, and GW was tinkering at home with a song that had been giving him trouble. He'd fiddle a few lines, make a change and fiddle it again, repeating the process over and over until he was satisfied.

Sometimes Meredith had wondered why she even bothered having an apartment. For the amount of time she actually spent there, she half considered throwing her stuff into a storage locker and living out of her car. At least it would be cost effective, because as it stood these days, her apartment was merely just an expensive place to store all her belongings.

The last week or so had been spent, obviously, in the dwelling of her best friend; as indisposed as the green demon had been in his altered state, Meredith clearly could not leave the six year old Lorne by himself. Thus, the reluctant and always-involved brunette had opted to stick around the Nightclub to keep an eye on the curious but otherwise well behaved junior demon.

But taking care of one man in her life had caused Meredith to forget about the other; She had been so completely occupied with picking stray Lucky Charms out of the carpet and inventing new uses for crayons that she had hardly the time to think about the main man in her life.

( It's definitely been awhile... )
But there were still some things Meredith knew she could save, and knowing that, she wouldn't let GW go without a fight. Smiling finally at her boyfriend, the steadfast brunette pushed hair out of her face which held a newfound expression of acceptance and resolve.

"We never did get to have dinner together," she told him finally. "Are you hungry?"

[posted with Carley's permission]

It had been a long day for GW, but a productive and satisfying one.

The band had decided to record an album of original material, and today had been thier first day in the studio. Instead of signing with a major label, which given their style of music wasn't all that likely, they were staying independent and working to promote their music through word of mouth and the internet. More and more bands were doing that these days, so they were hopeful.

It would take several more days of studio time to have enough quality material to fill the album, days that would be spread over weeks due to their live performances. But still, it was a good first step.

He took the steps leading up to Meredith's apartment two at a time, looking forward to spending some quality time with his girlfriend and telling her about his day. There was also the matter of Elian to discuss, and GW still wasn't sure exactly how to bring it up without getting into a fight.

For now he'd just play it by ear and hope that the right time would present itself. There was always the hope that a miracle had occurred and either Meredith had changed her mind or Elian's memories had returned on their own, but GW wasn't counting on it.

Nimble fingers worked a soft cloth in small circles, running it over the convex glass surface of a flawless zoom lens. Meredith sat in the silence of her apartment at her kitchen table, photography equipment sprawled out on the table before her.

A lazy afternoon with nothing else to do gave the brunette plenty of time to clean and organize her gear. Having so much of it made the task rather daunting, but it had to eventually be done. Grey cards, a spot meter, camera bodies both film and digital, rolls of film and various other items lay scattered around her.

It kept her mind busy. There was far too much going through it, and with her hands busy and concentration fixed, it left little time for her to think about whatever else was resting on the forefront of her subconscious. However, she wasn't able to completely tune it out; She'd still end up thinking about Elian and how good it was to see him again, to talk to him, and to see the look on Lorne's face when the demon saw him again too.

That had been the good part. The bad part had been his complete and total reluctance to jump back into his old life. She could understand that he was scared of the new life he ended up in. Sure, demons and evil things certainly never left a good taste in anyone's mouth, but what was the point in trying to hide from it?

Her hands stopped moving when she heard the footsteps on her front porch. She wasn't expecting anyone this afternoon, so curiously, she looked towards the door to see if the particular individual would knock on her door.

( Not seeing eye to eye, not hearing ear to ear. )

Snow's really gross when it melts, Mallory thought as she trudged up the sidewalk and tried to avoid being splashed by the passing cars as they drove through the slush on the street. The street sweepers had done a pretty good job of getting most of the mess out of the way, but there were still trouble spots here and there. The day was crisp and cool, and the redhead tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket as she walked, pondering the possibility of coffee.

Mainly she'd just wanted to get out of the trailer for the afternoon, wanting to think for a little. She almost felt as if she were waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the next thing to go wrong. Plus there was Sonya, whose presence had become, if not an annoyance, then something she'd become confused by. Having the Russian around was something she'd agreed to out of wanting to help, but maybe there needed to be a new plan in the next couple of days.

Mallory ducked around a couple as they wandered past her, spotting a familiar buffet restaurant she'd eaten at a few times previously. Lunch. Maybe lunch would help. A full stomach meant for more settled thoughts, or so her Gramma Iris always said.

At this point, she was willing to try anything.

GW had spent most of the morning rehearsing tunes on his fiddle, there was something soothing about playing the instrument to him, but there was also cold blooded practicality about practice as well. The music he played paid his bills and allowed him to live a pretty decent life doing what he loved. That meant he needed to constantly work on maintaining and improving his level of skill with both the fiddle and at singing as well. If people didn't feel they were getting their money's worth out of the performance then they wouldn't keep booking the band.

After finishing rehearsals for the day, he made a trip to the local music supply store, needing some fresh strings and oil for his fiddle. There was a decent buffet restaurant a few stores over, and GW decided to stop in there for lunch before picking up his supplies.

He still wasn't sure how he was going to convince Meredith and Lorne to back off on trying to restore Elian's memories whether he wanted it or not, but hopefully they'd come to their senses. Elian hadn't called him since that meeting, and he had to hope that no news was good news. Between his schedule and Mere's it had been next to impossible to get together lately, and he missed her.

The last thing he wanted to do was pick a fight with his girlfriend, but when she got stubborn sometimes there was no other choice.

( A familiar face )

"You think God can get drunk?"

Elian's brown eyes watched amber liquid pour into the glass that was set down before him, hitting ice cubes as the tumbler filled halfway and was pushed toward him. He posed his question in a hypothetical sense, not really expecting much of an answer from the man who tended the bar.

"If you believe in God," the man answered indifferently, not really planning on carrying on the conversation if he got his money for the drink. "Which I don't, so I could give a shit if he could or not."

Even snow in the desert wasn't enough to deter Elian from leaving his apartment. The amalgamation of crap bogging down his mind began to suffocate him, and unable to maintain a sense of mental clarity, wandered out into the streets through the blanket of white which looked so strange and anomalous as it coated the Las Vegas Strip.

He had walked until his toes had gone numb, and even then, continued to walk even farther. The wind whipped around his shoulders, picking up the end of his scarf as he traipsed through snowbanks with his hands crammed into the pockets of his jacket. He'd chosen the bar at random. When he didn't feel like walking anymore, Elian had ducked inside seeking a beverage to warm himself before he went back out again.

When his drink had been poured, he fished a few bills out of his pocket and tossed them on the counter. Sitting at the bar wouldn't have been the greatest idea for someone who didn't feel like talking to anyone, and the normally chatty man felt it best to move to the back of the room, find an empty table, and slump over it until his glass had been dutifully drained.

What are de odds? GW asked himself when he spotted Elian. The Cajun had stopped in for a drink at his neighborhood watering hole, and what did he see? A certain lost sheep that had Meredith and Lorne both tied up in knots.

He ought to buy a lottery ticket, because some of Mere's karma power must be rubbing off on him.

That thought in mind, GW ordered a beer from Sal and observed Elian trying to drown his sorrows as he waited. "Hey Sal," he asked the bartender as he handed over the cash for the beer, "how long has de guy in the corner been here? I t'ink I know him from somewhere."

The bartender shrugged and offered a grunt. "Been in here 'bought twenty minutes now," came the response, "Asked me somethin' about God and wandered away. Weird kid."

( You wouldn't believe it )

( Meeting again for the first time )

( What do I do now? )

( They don't get a vote )

The ground was still wet from a storm that had rolled in off the Gulf the night before, a real earth shattering lightning filled thunderboomer that had downed trees and spawned a few funnel clouds according to the morning news. By dawn though, the storm clouds were thinning and the winter sun was streaming through the gaps.

GW stepped out of his rental car, bouquet of flowers clutched tightly in one hand. He had meant to come here earlier in his stay, but family had found ways to keep him busy and now this was his last chance before flying back to Las Vegas.

( A conversation with the dead )

[Note:Takes place before the Winter Solstice Thread]

One last opportunity to wear that little black dress and spend and evening in the company of loved ones, and Meredith had more than enjoyed going to the symphony with GW. It certainly helped when your boyfriend had connections, and obtaining tickets to the sold out event had been not only a surprise to the brunette but a fantastic idea to spend one last night together before the pair parted ways for the holidays.

A flight first thing in the morning had prevented the reluctant Meredith from staying out too late, though every last moment counted with the handsome Cajun as they left the symphony and headed back towards her house. "Thank you.. for that totally wonderful surprise," Meredith said to her boyfriend as they walked with her arm linked with his on their way back to their vehicle, "I couldn't think of a better way to spend an evening together."

GW refrained from mentioning a better way he thought they could spend an evening together and smiled at his girlfriend. She looked fantastic in that black dress, and he was confident that he was the envy of every straight man at the performance that night. He'd dressed up for the occasion as well, wearing a tailored black suit with a colorful red tie to liven the outfit up a bit. He figured Lorne wouldn't think it flashy enough, but it suited GW just fine.
( A New Tradition )

( What's under the tree? )

And after she felt she had given him a sufficient enough amount of that mouth-to-mouth gesture, she withdrew her lips to smile before she embraced him in a warm hug. "Merry Christmas, GW," she whispered into his ear. "I'm going to miss you."

GW hugged her back. "I'm gonna miss you too, Chere. But we'll be back here 'fore you know it." He would miss having her around, but it would only be a week or so before they'd be back in Sin City.

"Merry Christmas."

As GW is a vetran I was doing a little research on the American Legion and the Vetrans of Foriegn Wars and guess what I found? It was a shocker to me:

Post 10468: Searchlight Memorial Post Searchlight, NV (VFW)

I wouldn't have thought it large enough to have enough vets for a VFW post. The Legion didn't have anything listed on their website for Nevada so I have no idea how many posts they have out that way.

Just a curiosity I found and thought I'd share.